


Well Met By Mischief Moonlight

by Astr



Category: A Midsummer Night's Dream - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Fluff with little plot, Implied Sexual Content, It's just cute, M/M, Mischief, just fun, unconventional use of the word dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29984475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astr/pseuds/Astr
Summary: Cole is Compassion, but on certain nights of the year, when the Veil thins in magical places, he also pays homage to his once love, the spirit of Mischief himself.
Relationships: Cole (Dragon Age)/Puck (A Midsummer Night's Dream), Cole/Robin Goodfellow (A Midsummer Night's Dream)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Well Met By Mischief Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fluff piece, but it was fun to write 💜

Most people stayed indoors upon this night, sprinkled with blessed water and clutching totems of cold iron in the hopes that the faer folk would pass them by.

Cole was not most. He delighted in the tricks played by the followers of Goodfellow, and the peculiar rationalizations from the more devout folk upon the discoveries of the morning after.

For a spirit of Compassion, Cole was quite subtly mischievious. While he made sure he never harmed (and mostly helped in fact) with his small pranks, he always looked forward to the night he could play them. Tonight he planned a few simple potions and spells for those that he knew cared for each other but had not the courage to admit to it.

–

After setting things in motion, Cole took a walk through the snowy forest. He liked to imagine the days when he would frolic, before he became Cole, on this night where mystical locations pulled at the Veil, and dance amongst Oberon’s folk. They would welcome him to their circles, and all would have good fun while the night lasted, they feasting and celebrating, and he observing with a smile.

He very particularly fondly remembered the dances with Robin Goodfellow, an honest Puck who took his hands and laughed as the Spirit wondered how he could. “Many magics make mysteries,” he had murmured, and through the nonsense Compassion found and loved Mischief. He wondered briefly if Dorian and Varric would find the faer folk’s slang use of “dance,” when they meant something quite different, funny or poetic. Probably both.

Tonight, however, he had a body of his own and could have celebrated amongst them were they wont to gather in so cold a climate. Most did not, though he spotted the occasional sprite twisting up the snow capped trees. It was a beautiful sight to be sure, but lacking in fun.

Until, that is, there came a tap upon his shoulder. He turned, and lost his hat as faer lips crashed upon his own, silvery hands softly sifting through his hair, weaving magical flowers amongst the long locks. He kissed back, realizing at once who had found him, and taking great joy in the knowledge. As they pulled away, cerulean met mismatched green and brown, grins of differing magnitudes appearing on bruised lips.

“Well met by moonlight, fair Compassion. Thy body’s changed since last we danced. It has been far too many moons, and I fear’d I’d lost my chance - I did desire you again, yet worried I had unearned luck: fear’d with Midsummer come and gone , thou hadst forgotten your poor Puck?” The language would have sounded strange coming from any of his new companions, but the words felt natural, magical even, coming from Robin.

Cole grinned gently.

“Gentle Puck, it is not so. I have been lost these past few years. I hope that staying here this night will calm and soothe unfounded fears. For my form, ‘tis quite a tale, if you would listen I will share…” he began, and recalled his adventures to that point, concluding with the mischief he had managed that eve, which met with happy laughter from the Puck.

“A tiny trick well done, it seems. I passed the palace seeking you, to see if pixies’ claims were true. your friends all dance within the square, together as befit your mind. Each within the proper pair, a sight that told me you I’d find. And for such a job done well, thou dost deserve a gift from me. Take my hands and let us dance, I would spend my night with thee.”

—

In the morning, Cole awoke not naked in the forest as he would have expected, but in his “bed” above the tavern in his pants. At first he feared greatly that he had merely had a vision of the night’s revelry, but he began to take in his room. His shirt was absolutely nowhere to be seen, but his hat had been placed ever so gently on a chest beside him. Tucked inside the straps were deep purple flowers - Robin Goodfellow’s calling card as it were - to assure him he had not dreamt the previous night. He felt a slight pressure on his finger and found a ring of moss and tiny flowers - a symbol of a bond that was the closest thing Oberon’s house had to marriage.

Cole grinned, deciding that he would have to play more pranks in the nights to come in honour of Mischief’s Master, and to invite him back to stay.


End file.
